Thelma, Louise and Me

Douglas Noel Adams said, "I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be." I know exactly what he means. It happened to me in the midst of my fear which created a deadly disease.

I'd never heard of Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma, but I discovered that cancer doesn't spare the unprepared. Shocked and surprised by my demise, I tried to pretend I was fine. Denial was comforting to me, and besides, I was accustomed to disasters by then. It wasn't until my Oncologist said, with such conviction, "Be prepared to lose your hair," that I paid attention. Unable to imagine myself as one who'd ever be bald, I went on a mission to find spare hair.

Never having worn a wig, I had no clue of where to begin. Although I searched all around, no wigs were found in my town. Still, the internet told me of a store in a city close by, so I traveled there to give it a try. It took some time to find the place, and when I arrived I realized that I'd ventured from my comfort zone. The store was in a rough side of town, and when I noted the bars on the windows and doors, I asked myself, "What am I doing here?"

Sitting there in the parking lot, I closed my eyes and tried to visualize myself baldly. If I could find some peace with this, maybe I wouldn't have to go inside the dingy shop, but the picture wasn't pretty at all.

A determined will came to my mind that refused to go bald, so I made a command right then and there. "I will not go home without spare hair." I waited a moment or two, until that same voice in my mind seemed to say, "Get out of the car and go inside." Taking a deep breath, I locked my car and boldly walked through the door of the store.

As bold as I'd been the moment before, immediately upon entering, my determination was replaced with what I'm sure was a pathetic look on my face. Every eye stared at me as if to ask, "Why is she in this place?"

The store clerk seemed the most surprised when I walked inside. With a ring in his nose and another on his brow, tattoos covered his bare arms and who knows what else. To me, he appeared to be a criminal. Avoiding his eyes, I smiled to hide the anxiety going through my mind.

The shop was spooky, and the rows of hair on heads seemed haunting. I strolled up and down the isles for a while, as if I knew what I was doing, but as hard as I tried to be dignified, a lump

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